


Four Days and Three Nights

by supergirrl



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Post-Apocalypse, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 08:29:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14614083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supergirrl/pseuds/supergirrl
Summary: No matter the lifetime, Capable and Nux always find each other.





	Four Days and Three Nights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VestAndBowTie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VestAndBowTie/gifts).



> Hello everyone! VestAndBowTie was interested in an AU that included soulmates, and I hope they enjoy my interpretation of that! Unrelated to the fic but I am graduating today with my master's of science and am super excited!

_The First Day_

Capable moved swiftly and silently through the empty street. Her bag was getting heavy-she’d found an abandoned stash of canned food, an excellent discovery-but she had one more stop to make before her journey home. She had to return before dark. Although the sun was still relatively high, it would take her several hours to reach their house. In the earlier days after the wars that killed the earth and turned the sky grey, supplies had been relatively plentiful. But now, after years of survivors scavenging out a bleak living from what had been left behind, there was little left. So they had to range farther and farther from their home in search of what they needed to survive, into dangerous and unknown territory.

That uncertainty made the back of her neck prickle. She was fairly certain that there was no one else around, but she wished Toast was with her. Her sister was the best shot of them all, although Capable could defend herself.

The store’s door was hanging open, and for a moment she was worried that the shelves inside would be picked clean. But when she stepped inside, she saw what she had come for.

There were some supplies to be found in abundance, though; the things people no longer had use for. Items for babies and pregnant people were among these. Even before the bombs, fewer and fewer babies were being born. Poison in the water, Miss Giddy had told them. With no one having babies, the paraphernalia associated with them was not wanted or needed by anyone.

Well, not by most people, anyway. Capable loaded her bag with all the baby supplies it could hold-cans of formula, diapers, vitamins. She didn’t know what babies needed, none of them did, but they only had a few weeks to figure it out before Angharad’s baby was born. When her bag was full, she headed home.

 

They lived in a house on the outskirts of the city, near the poison lake. Capable thought it must have been a nice neighborhood, at some point, but by the time she and her sisters had been adopted by Miss Giddy, it was all but abandoned. They grew up in the shadow of empty houses and forgotten lives.

But ultimately it had been that sense of neglect that had protected them, thus far. No one knew that anyone still lived in their neighborhood, so no one came looking for them. As long as they were careful and remained hidden, they were relatively safe. It was when they had to venture out for food and other supplies that things could get dangerous.

She was only a few blocks from home when something caught her eye. Scattered hunks of metal and rubber were littered in the street, and something-someone was hunched over the curb.

Capable only had an instant to hope the person was dead when they let out a bloodcurdling howl that shattered the silence.

She hurried forward and saw it was a man, barefoot and wearing only a tattered pair of cargo pants. Even with a quick glance she could tell that he was not long for this world. His breath rattled and she could see tumors on his shoulders and throat. He had the distinct pallor of someone dying from the radiation sickness, which she and her sisters had been lucky to avoid.

 

He let out a groan, and instinctively Capable looked around them, waiting to see if anyone had responded to his noise. She should put him out of his misery now, before he drew every scavenger in the area to her home. Who knew what would coming looking in the night if he kept howling like this?

She didn’t want to waste a bullet, so her knife would have to do.

But as she started to unsheathe it-moving slowly, unsure whether he was dangerous-he clasped his hands to his face and let out a sob, and she saw the black stains on his hands and arms. Motor oil.

“You’re a revhead?”

He nodded, and her thoughts began to race. Was the solution to their problem lying in front of her?

 

Their foster mother Miss Giddy had always told them stories, about the world before and all that had been lost. But in the final days of her life, she began to tell them her own stories, her life before she had adopted them.

She had been born far from the city and raised by a large extended family, bound by creed and not blood. The Vuvalini, they called themselves, or the Many Mothers. They lived in rural isolation, growing all their own food and powering their home-which they called the Green Place-with the sun, and were entirely self-reliant. It had been an idyllic childhood for Giddy, growing up in a place where all genders were equal and little girls never learned to fear men. She had only left to pursue an education, and then to help others who were less fortunate.

 “Are they still alive? Have you heard from them since it happened?” Toast asked.

Miss Giddy shook her head. “No, but if anyone could survive, it would be them. We had months and months’ worth of supplies.”

Dag commented dryly, “Even if they had all that stuff then, probably some schlangers with guns have stolen it from them.”

The smile Miss Giddy gave her was sharp and knowing. “Doubt it. My family could take care of themselves. How do you think I learned to shoot a gun?”

Her smile turned soft at the memories. “I wish you girls could have seen it. I wish I had taken you home before it was too late. You would be safe there.”

Less than a week later, she had died peacefully in her sleep, and they had been left alone in the world, with only each other as protectors.

 

And in the desperate days that followed, that single conversation about the Green Place had been enough to plant the idea like a seed in their minds.

 

After Angharad was raped by a gang of scavengers and came staggering home with a sprog growing inside her, she went silent, refusing to say a word for weeks. And when all their attempts to wash it out failed and her belly began to swell, she’d tried to kill herself. Capable and Toast had found her with a knife in her hand, her face shredded to ribbons and blood pouring from her arm. Angharad fought them like a desperate, cornered animal, and it had taken all four of them to wrestle the blade away and bandage her wounds. Even through the struggle Angharad hadn’t spoken, just screamed with wordless and incoherent rage.

A few days later, before they went to sleep, Cheedo was telling some of Miss Giddy’s old stories, for entertainment just as much as to make sure they weren’t forgotten. She spoke of the Green Place where Giddy was born, a haven of safety and plenty, and when she finished, Angharad spoke for the first time in months.

“We have to go there.” Her voice was rusty from disuse but her words could not have been clearer.

Startled, Capable looked up from the shirt she’d been mending. “Go where?”  
“To the Green Place Miss Giddy told us about.” She said it so matter-of-factly, as if she wasn’t suggesting something impossible.

Toast exchanged a concerned looked with Capable before asking, “Why?”

“It’s the only way we’re going to survive. There’s nothing left for us here, and Miss Giddy said she thought her family would have survived. We have to get to them or we’ll die here.”

In the weeks that followed, Angharad’s wounds faded into stark white scars, but her resolve never wavered. Whenever anyone expressed doubt or fear, she would just say, “No matter what happens, we’re going to the Green Place of Many Mothers.”

Capable found herself repeating those words to herself, over and over, as if saying them could make them true.

They threw themselves into preparing for their journey-gathering supplies and deciding what to take and what could be left behind. Dag used Miss Giddy’s old needle and ink to tattoo the map and their route onto each of their arms. Toast had suggested that they add other bits of information from Miss Giddy’s vast library too, as they would not be able to bring most of the books, so the maps on their skin were joined by chemical formulas and snatches of poetry and whatever else caught their fancy, a blend of practical and inessential yet meaningful.

But even Angharad’s iron will or Toast’s cleverness could not change the fact that they had no functioning vehicle. Miss Giddy’s car hadn’t started in years, and despite all of their tinkering, they had been unable to repair it. And besides, none of them had ever driven a car. If they ever got it running, they would just have to figure out how to drive as they went.

But this man…As a revhead, his whole life was devoted to cars. Sometimes she would lay awake at night and listen to the distant roars of their engines as they raced around the empty city. He must know how to drive cars, maybe even fix them.

Her heart started to beat faster with excitement at the prospect, but she forced her voice to stay level.

“Get up.” He didn’t move, just stared at her, so she drew her gun and pointed it at him. His eyes widened but he got to his feet without complaint. Now that he was standing, she realized how tall and lanky he was, much bigger than her. But it didn’t matter. She was armed and he wasn’t.

“Here,” she said, pulling a long rag from her pocket. It would be best if he didn’t see where they lived. “Tie this around your eyes.”

He did so with fumbling hands, and when his eyes were securely covered, she told him, “Walk.”

It was slow going but they made it back to the house when there was still some light in the sky. Toast was out front, sorting ammunition she had found a few days earlier. When she saw Capable, her eyes widened. “Who is he?”

“I think he could be our way to the Green Place.”

Capable called for the others as she and Toast tied him to a pole in the garage. Once he was secured, Toast pulled off his blindfold and looked him up and down. “Where did you find him, Capable? He looks half-dead.”

Before she could reply, her other three sisters entered the room. Cheedo and Dag came first, holding hands, as usual, and Angharad followed, her usual quick step slowed by her large belly. When she saw the man, she froze.

“What is this, Capable?” Dag asked.

Capable’s words tumbled out rapidly. “A revhead. I found him dumped in the street on my way back. He could fix the car and teach us how to drive it.”

Angharad shook her head emphatically. “Why did you bring him here? He’s dangerous, and who knows if he can even help us.”

“What else can we do?” Toast argued. “We’ve been trying to fix that car for months, and we aren’t any closer to getting it running! I say we give him a chance.”

“We should vote,” Cheedo suggested. “It’s the only fair way to make a decision.”

Capable nodded. “Fine. Toast, what do you think?”

Her sister tilted her head, considering. “Let him live. If he can’t help or turns on us, we kill him then. But right now he’s more useful to us alive than dead.”

“I agree,” said Capable.

Angharad snarled, “Every second he draws breath, he’s a threat to us. We should kill him and be done with it.”

Dag fixed him with an appraising stare. “Kill him. It’s kinder than what he would have done if he’d gotten one of us.”

Two in favor of life, two voting for death. It was up to Cheedo.

Capable looked at her youngest sister, marveling that anything as soft and kind as her could still exist. They’d tried their best to protect her from the harsh realities of their world, and she was the only one who had never killed. But she understood how desperate their situation was, and had the cool-headed, practical streak of someone twice her age.

“Angharad, you said it yourself. Getting to the Green Place is our only chance of survival, and we won’t get there without a car. We need him.” Her voice was soft but still firm, and Capable breathed a sigh of relief.

Three to two. He would live, at least for now.

After a few minutes of tense discussion, Toast turned to face the man and said levelly, “Here’s the deal, revhead. You fix the car for us and teach us how to drive. In exchange, when we leave, you get the house and anything we leave behind. Food, weapons, medicine, whatever you want. Otherwise, we’ll kill you right now. If you lay a finger on any of us or do anything other than what you’re told, we kill you. Understand?”

He swallowed roughly. “Yeah. Yeah.”

“Should we make him start tonight?” Now that they had agreed to keep him, Capable was eager to put him to work and see if their car was repairable.

Toast shook her head. “Nah, it’s too dark to see and not worth wasting the fuel for the lights. We’ll wait until it’s bright enough in the morning.”

With that, the others headed off to sleep. As girls they had slept in separate beds-although Cheedo usually crawled in beside Dag at some point during the night-but they could no longer heat the house. So now they all shared Miss Giddy’s bed, for comfort as much as for warmth. It would have been impossible for all five of them to fit, but since they took turns keeping watch throughout the night, they slept four at a time.

Capable always took the first watch, and she took up her usual position in a rickety chair with a threadbare old blanket wrapped around her. It was unlikely that anyone would approach the house, but if someone did, they would not be caught unawares.

The man’s head was slumped forward on his chest as he dozed. Even in sleep, his breath was still uneven, and Capable could see that he was shivering. Holding up the bargain would prolong his life, but not by much.

When two hours passed and Toast came to take her place, he was still sleeping, and Capable was looking forward to laying down in a warm bed. As she rose, she gave her sister an affectionate squeeze of the hand, grateful for her support earlier.

Impulsively, she draped her blanket across the man’s body. Toast had her own, and it wouldn’t do for him to freeze.

With a start, he woke, and she stepped back instinctively. But he just looked down at the blanket, then at her. Quite unexpectedly, he smiled, and something warm flared inside her. “Thank you.”

Not responding to him, she said good night to Toast and went inside. She fell asleep remembering the grateful look in his eyes, as if no one had ever been kind to him before.

 

_The First Night_

_Capable didn’t remember what the sky had looked like before, not really. Although she could picture it in her mind if she tried, the sky in her mind was more the product of Toast and Angharad and Dag’s remembrances-they were a little older than her, old enough to recall the time before the bombs fell. Miss Giddy must have remembered it well, of course, having lived most of her life before the wars, but they had never thought to ask her to describe it to them, while she still lived. To her, the sky was a virtually unchanging mass of perpetual grey from the soot that blocked out the sun._

_That night she dreamed of a soft blue-grey sky, like the scraps of fabric she had brought back for Cheedo to use in the blanket for Angharad’s baby, stretching out over an empty space vaster than she could have ever imagined, and clouds in colors she scarcely recognized, shades of gold and pink and purple.  She dreamed of scarred lips beneath her fingers, and scared blue eyes gazing into her own._

_The Second Day_

The next morning, the revhead performed even better than Capable could have hoped for. It only took a few minutes of poking around beneath the hood-closely supervised by Toast, of course- before he announced that the alternator was broken and that he would need to go to a junkyard to find a replacement. Even under Angharad’s withering gaze, he seemed unnaturally cheerful.

He set into a can of peaches-his breakfast and reward-as they discussed what to do next.

Ultimately they decided that Capable would go with him and his hands would remain bound.  

 

The junkyard was close, only a few hours’ walk, and they made good time, only stopping once to hide from some passing revheads. Capable worried that the man might call out to them or reveal himself in some way, but he was silent and still, showing no signs of regret that he was not with them.

She wondered why that was. How had he ended up all alone in that empty street? She knew so little about revheads, just the name, that they were obsessed with cars, and that they seemed to travel in packs. In all her years of scavenging, she had never seen just one revhead.

Her curiosity got the best of her. Once they were alone, she asked, “Why were you in that street?”

“I burned out, so they left me behind.” he replied.

“What?”

“I’m dying. Been sick for a long time, but it’s getting worse. And yesterday I crashed my car, so they threw me out.”

Her confusion must have been evident on her face, because he continued, “As long as our cars live, we do too. A revhead without a car isn’t a revhead anymore. Without mine, I’m no longer worthy. Not even alive, to them. They scrapped my car and left me.”

So he had been left behind on purpose. The idea of abandoning her sisters was unthinkable. But they loved each other fiercely, despite their disagreements, and it sounded like there was very little love among the revheads. That was its own sense of security, Capable thought. Even when they were hungry or cold or afraid, she knew that she would always love her sisters, and they her. What would she be without that love?

“So if anything bad happens to your car, you’re cast out?”

He shook his head. “Not if it burns. Revheads who burn with their cars live forever. Fire’s the best death, clean and pure.”

Before Capable could respond to that disturbing statement, or even process it fully, someone grabbed her from behind.

She screamed and struggled, trying to grab one of her weapons, but her attacker’s grip on her was strong, a hand closing on her windpipe.

Then as quickly as it had started, it was over. Despite his tied hands, her prisoner got hold of her gun and struck the assailant’s head with it, hard. He released her and dropped heavily to the ground.

Rubbing her throat, Capable looked down at the man disdainfully. He was clearly a scavenger like her, albeit a more aggressive one than her. She and her sisters didn’t attack others for their supplies, only defended themselves when necessary. It looked like he was still breathing, but she didn’t particularly care whether he lived or died.

Capable turned her attention back to her prisoner. He could helped the other man, or even just let him kill her and fled. But instead, he had helped her. She didn’t even know his name, and he had saved her life.

“What’s your name? I’m Capable.”

“It’s Nux.” He smiled, a little awkwardly.

“Well, Nux, thank you for saving my life.”

 

_The Second Night_

_All the love and comfort Capable had ever known came from her sisters and Miss Giddy. She knew no touch other than theirs._

_That night she dreamed of a strange blue night and air that tasted of salt. But she was not afraid because there was a pair of warm arms around her and a bright light flickering beside her. Her head rested on a broad chest, and although the heartbeat within was unsteady, it was reassuring. In his arms, she felt safe. She felt loved._

 

_The Third Day_

Nux spent the morning with Toast, replacing the alternator and teaching her how to drive, but he joined Capable for lunch.

They were eating in companionable silence until he asked suddenly, “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere,” Capable said with a laugh, “I’m sitting here with you!”

“No, I meant, where are you taking the car? You have all those supplies and the maps on your arms, but where are you going?”

Was it really possible she hadn’t told him? She supposed that, for her, getting to the Green Place was so all-consuming it was difficult to think of anyone being unaware of it.

So Capable told him about Miss Giddy, her life and the story she had shared with them before her death. How the Green Place was their only chance of survival.

When she was finished, he was quiet, clearly digesting the information. “I never even knew a place like that could exist.”

“Me neither.”

“I hope you make it there,” he said earnestly, “If anyone deserves that-to be happy, to be safe-, it’s you.”

 

At dinner that night, the others were discussing their plan to leave at first light the next day. When there was a lull in the conversation, Capable shared the idea that she had been turning over in her head since she had told Nux about their plan.

“I think Nux should come with us to the Green Place.”

Four startled faces turned towards her, but no one challenged her.

Heartened, she continued, “The car is running now, but what if it breaks down on the road? Then we’ll be stuck. Besides, he’s a better driver than any of us. I think it’s in our best interest to bring him.”

Angharad was the first to respond. “Does he want to come?”

“Yes, I think so.”

Dag snorted. “Have you noticed the way he looks at you? He would follow you anywhere, Capable.”

Capable felt her face heat with a blush, and she looked down at her can of beans to avoid eye contact with any of them.

“Miss Giddy did say there were men in the Green Place. Just not a lot of them.” Toast said thoughtfully.

“Only the good ones, though,” Cheedo added. “And I think Nux is good enough. I’m glad he’s coming.”

The others nodded in assent, and Capable smiled.

 

She told him the good news when they were alone, and he let out a whoop of excitement that turned into a coughing fit. Even though he seemed much healthier than when they had met, he was still unmistakably not well. For a moment she wondered whether he would survive the journey with them, then quashed that thought down.

“Thank you so much, Capable,” he said once he stopped coughing. His grin was infectious. “I won’t let you down.”

Before she could reply, he bent down and kissed her on the cheek, a hasty swipe of lips against skin that made her skin tingle.

It didn’t matter how much time he had left, as long as they could spend it together.

 

_The Third Night_

_Capable had seen death before, quiet and soft or violent and bloody. But she had never known death by fire._

_The sun was impossibly hot and bright, its light bouncing off the great walls of stone surrounding then, and the sky was so blue it hurt her eyes. Yet even amidst all that brightness, Nux was all she could see._

_He was receding from her, going somewhere she could not follow. He stretched out a shaking hand, reaching for her through a wreath of flame, and she caught his soul in her open palm._

 

_The Fourth Day_

As soon as it was light enough to see, they busied themselves rearranging the contents of the car to accommodate the extra passenger. They worked fast and silently, eager to get on the road as soon as possible.

Nux was passing Capable a jug of water when they heard it: the scream of engines, distant at first but quickly getting louder. Revheads.

None of the women acknowledged the noise, but Nux froze, his face stricken.

“What’s wrong?” Toast asked.

“Raiding party. They’re coming.” He sprung into movement, loading the final crate of food into the trunk.

Cheedo frowned. “How do you know that? They could just be racing.”

Shaking his head, Nux went back into the garage. “They aren’t. We need to leave now.”

Capable listened more closely and realized that it did sound different than usual. More engines running at the same time than usual, and though their shouts were faint, they somehow sounded different, more menacing. Was it possible they had been spotted yesterday? Or had their luck finally run out?

From the look on Toast’s face, Capable thought that she was having similar thoughts.

“Let’s go.”

Angharad’s belly made it impossible for her to fit in the back, so Capable helped her into the passenger seat. Cheedo, Dag, and Toast crammed themselves into the back seat, and Capable was about to join them when she remembered Nux.

She turned and saw him standing there in the open garage, the gas containers they had to leave behind scattered around him. Spilled gasoline was streaked across the floor, and there was a matchbox in one hand and a jug in the other.

“A distraction,” he said in response to her unanswered question. “They’ll stop to watch the fire burn out and it’ll give us a chance to get away.”

Capable grabbed a container and began to help him, ignoring the twinges of pain as she imagined their little home going up in flames.

Finally he said, “That should be enough.” She dropped the jug and went to the car, then realized he wasn’t with her.

“Nux?”

It took him a moment to respond, his eyes resting on her face. There was something odd about his expression that she couldn’t quite place. He swallowed and nodded. “Give me a minute.”

She hesitated for a moment, but then Cheedo called her name, and she climbed in beside her. Nux took the final gasoline container and started to make a trail leading away from the house, just as cars, laden with howling revheads, came into view.

Nux looked at them, then looked back at Capable. “Go without me!”

“No!” Capable shrieked, lunging for the door, but Dag and Cheedo caught her, holding her back. Toast scrambled into the front seat and turned the car on, and suddenly they were speeding away.

She stuck her head out the window and watched, horrified, as Nux dropped the lit match. The fire leapt up around him, and he looked at her steadily, eyes full of regret.

Angharad was trying to pull her back into the car, trying to convince her not to watch, but Capable couldn’t tear her gaze from Nux. Her stomach swooped at the sickening familiarity of this-pulling away from him, his bright eyes fixed on her as flames consumed him, because she had seen this very moment-

But this wasn’t the same as her dream; there was no canyon, no piercing sunlight-

 _I have lived this before,_ Capable realized. _And I will live it again._  

_The First Day, Again_

Capable sat with her legs tucked up beneath her on the lookout post of the Rig, watching the horizon and trying not to think about Angharad. But if she didn’t linger on the events of today, all she could think of was the future-terrifying-or the equally unbearable past.

For a long time Capable thought that her strange dreams of other worlds and other lives were just that-dreams. Vague figments of her imagination, nothing more. But when she was brought to the Vault and saw the familiar faces of those she had loved, the dreams began to increase in frequency and intensity. But most nights she saw them hanging on by a thread in their little house, trying desperately to flee to the only place where they could survive.

Had they even made it to the Green Place, before? She wasn’t sure. Capable remembered the explosion, watching Nux die in the flames as they sped away, but nothing that came after. Had they survived the perilous journey and found that the Green Place still lived?

She doubted it. More likely they had perished, five desperate women chasing an even more desperate hope in a dying world.

Perhaps Angharad had gone under the wheels then too, and the rest of them would die too-Toast and Cheedo and Dag. Miss Giddy was already gone, she knew that. She never escaped with them, never lived long enough for even the chance of freedom.  This was the way it always was-they ran, from a terrible present to an unknown future, and died in the attempt.

Capable had _known_ , she had known that they had tried before and that they had likely failed. Why had she gone along with Angharad’s mad scheme, to drag them all out into the Wasteland to die?

But it wasn’t all the same, she told herself forcefully. There had been no Joe in their earlier life, and Dag hadn’t been pregnant, in any of the lives she could recall. No Furiosa, either, and no Fool. They were new.

Maybe Furiosa would make the difference, this time. Maybe they would make it to the Green Place.

_Or they’ll just die with us, because no matter what happens, we are doomed._

She pushed that thought away, because giving in to despair would only make things worse. In her mind she repeated Angharad’s mantra, over and over again.

_We are going to the Green Place of Many Mothers._

Angharad never gave up hope, no matter how bleak their situation. But then again, she had the gift of not remembering. Capable hoped that if this attempt failed, she would be blissfully unaware in her next life.

A new sound, suddenly, besides the rumble of the engine. A human noise.

She spun around and saw the War Boy they had tossed off the Rig earlier. He was curled up on the floor behind her, sobbing quietly. Before, Capable had been so angry and frightened that she hadn’t really looked at him, beyond his shaved head and War Boy garb.

But then she saw his face, the familiar planes blurred by scars and white paint, his eyes-bright and blue and beautiful, the ones from the dreams that were not just dreams. Her memories.

And she knew him.

_Nux._

Without thinking she asked, “What are you doing here?”

She meant, _What are you doing in this life? In this world?_

But he thought she was asking why he was in the back of the Rig, and started mumbling about Joe and the Fool and Angharad-

Capable felt like she couldn’t breathe, because all of it was rushing back to her, those half-forgotten moments on the outskirts of a dying city. The memories of him, always less clear than those of her sisters, burned sharp and bright in her mind’s eye, and for a moment she wanted to hold him close.

But he didn’t remember her, that much was apparent. He must be like her sisters, then, trapped in the same cycle as her but unable to see it.

He started to slam his head against the Rig, punishing himself for his imagined crimes, and

she couldn’t bear to see him hurting himself, not Nux, brave sweet Nux, who’d done so much for them even if he couldn’t remember-

Reaching out, she cradled his head in her hands, reveling in his warmth and the tangible proof that he was here. For now, he was with her, and he was alive.

He was wishing he had died earlier, before he had even met her, and she could have laughed at how wrong he was, to think that he could die before they had even met-

But instead she said, “I’d say it was your manifest destiny not to.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
